In this minute of make-believe, I can show youanything. A bird toucheswall you can touch, turnsto dog, spider, cat. You followthe shapes my hands awkwardly make: snakesliding down the door,your small certain headbobbing up and down.A fish swims just belowyour ear, hair clinging above it with sweat. Softlyair blows through; I countthem to slow time down.In this minute, I am there with you, in that spacenature makes us forget--my own mother flappingher wings, my giant bird yet.